Chapter 156: This Riddler Is Off

Ma Ma Zhaodi turned his head and headed straight for the prison.

Seeing him leave, Sheriff Gordon picked up a full cup of coffee from his desk, gulped it down in one breath, forced himself to perk up, and waved to the officers in the precinct.

"Everyone get ready! The Joker is still causing trouble; he just attacked the Joke Shop again and has now run to the Joke Factory—quick, quick, quick! Get your weapons and bulletproof vests ready; we're going to corner him inside the theater!"

On a Gotham afternoon, under a cloudless sky, a warm sun was radiating golden light.

Police cars speeding down the road appeared on the street; in another minute or two, the police convoy would arrive at their destination, the Joke Factory.

"Hey, Kawai, how long has it been since you've seen a sunny day in Gotham?"

The officer driving glanced at the sun in the sky through his sunglasses and asked casually.

"Probably a very long time," an officer replied, "but hasn't it been sunny for the past two months? I even miss the old weather."

"Are you serious? Rain, snow, or stifling overcast days? You miss that stuff?"

"There are cold overcast days too—I mean, isn't it nice to have a few rainy days occasionally?"

"Man, you're really weird."

Screech—

The tires rubbed against the concrete road, leaving a short skid mark.

"We're here; surround the building—what's the situation inside? Can you see anything?"

"Can't see, but they say the Joker has hijacked a batch of comedians inside again; he's probably planning to do the same thing as before."

"Good, the plan has already been set up on the vehicles according to the theater's architectural blueprint; everyone get ready; we need to sneak in and search for the Joker and the hostages; remember, move quietly and quickly."

"No problem, ready, Commissioner Gordon—we're all waiting for your orders."

Sheriff Gordon pulled the pipe from his mouth, stared at it for a few seconds, confirmed there were no issues, and then gave the order.

"Now, begin entry."

"Go! Go! Go!"

The officers held their guns as several teams rapidly approached the building simultaneously.

But at the same time, at the very rear of the police force, a revolver was aimed at an alert officer crouching behind a police car.

Boom—!

The remote control was pressed; a massive burst of fire and sound roared out from the building; the shockwave from the explosion blew all the officers trying to approach to the ground.

Bang!

Along with the explosion, a gunshot rang out simultaneously.

As the officer at the very rear, no one saw the scene of him being shot; and the sound of the explosion was too loud, drowning out the gunshot just now; he collapsed limply to the ground, unnoticed by anyone.

"A man ran into a bullet, oh my."

A purple glove forcibly pulled the muscles around the officer's mouth upward, exposing his gums and teeth: "Isn't that funny?"

Blood flowed silently; clearly, the officer could not answer that question.

That hand remained unsatisfied, fiddling with the corner of his mouth on its own, as if trying to make him smile, but still never satisfied; the sharp voice carried a tone of frustration.

"This should be funny—emm no, no, no."

Indeed not funny, the Joker thought to himself.

At this moment, a passerby happened to come running around the street corner, perhaps a reporter or something, wanting to get first-hand information on this incident.

The Joker thought it wouldn't hurt to give her one too, so he raised his gun.

"Ah—"

The scream rang out almost simultaneously with the gunshot, but at this moment, another deafening explosion echoed from inside the theater, once again drowning out those two sounds.

The Joker casually put the bomb remote he was holding back into his pocket, but his face remained gloomy; he didn't seem happy about successfully fooling the police, nor did he see any fun in the woman collapsing.

"A woman ran into a bullet. No, no, no."

Still not funny, the Joker thought to himself; just like the Duan Zi told by those comedians, none of them were interesting.

He holstered his gun, completely ignored the highly alert officers behind him, and walked away from the street in great displeasure.

Things that weren't funny didn't really concern him, just like the fate of the comedians inside the theater earlier, or the life or death of these two people right in front of him.

Then again, if you get hit in a vital spot by a single shot from a large-caliber revolver, what reason is there to stay alive?

At this moment, Ma Ma Zhaodi had already arrived at the prison and put on his own clothes.

At this time, he was talking with an old-timer officer, which could help him understand the Riddler of this world; as it stood, the Riddlers in both worlds were probably equally smart and equally full of criminal records, just with one slight difference.

"The Riddler? In the Gotham Police Department prison? Locked up for a year?"

Ma Ma Zhaodi asked in shock: "Just here? A year? Baren, are you sure?"

Ma Ma Luoni Baren took a deep drag of the cigarette Ma Ma Zhaodi handed him, then replied: "Of course, isn't this common knowledge? Since almost a year ago, when a suddenly appeared bat freak caught him and threw him in prison, this guy has been staying here obediently."

"He hasn't tried to escape?"

"Are you kidding, Little Ma," Ma Luoni laughed, "he's just a slightly smarter criminal; once you handcuff him, he can't do anything—compared to crime, he's actually quite good at solving cases and betting on soccer."

Ma Ma Zhaodi stood with his mouth open; he never dreamed there would be a version of the Riddler who stayed obediently in prison, acted as a detective consultant for the police, and even loved betting on soccer.

"What does he need money for?"

"He has no use for money, so the money all goes to me," Ma Luoni boasted proudly, "I just need to take a little cut from inside, buy him some alcohol, or buy some cigarettes—that guy knows how to handle things."

After he finished boasting, seeing Ma Ma Zhaodi's surprised expression, he realized he seemed to have gotten a bit carried away, so he coughed twice and said, "Ahem, ahem, don't tell anyone else about this; in principle, we definitely aren't allowed to do this, understand?"

At this moment, Ma Ma Zhaodi's face immediately showed an understanding expression: "Of course, Ma Luoni, you just said nothing."

"That's right."

At this moment, a bald black detective suddenly walked in from outside the door; it was obvious he was in a hurry and had just rushed over from the precinct.

"Ma Luoni, I want to see the Riddler."

"No problem, old rules, half an hour."

Watching the Inspector walk into the interrogation room, Ma Ma Zhaodi felt a bit puzzled and asked Ma Luoni, "Do people often come to see him like this?"

"Of course, didn't I say it? His knack for solving cases is unparalleled."

"So, whenever they encounter a case that's hard to crack, people turn to him?"

"Mm-hmm—Anyway, this guy was already sick; he loves solving puzzles. No kind of riddle can stump him."

Hearing this, Ma Ma Zhaodi's sense of unease grew even stronger.

In his own Gotham City, the Riddler, powerless and without influence, still managed to carve out a path to survival between Falcone and the Holiday Killer using only his wits. Yet in this Gotham City where Batman has only just begun his career a year ago, he can't even get out of an ordinary prison? This isn't even Arkham.

Something is wrong with the Riddler. Very wrong.

PS: Begging for monthly votes at the end of the month~

(End of this chapter)